


All Tied Up

by lornrocks



Category: Fandom: Heroes
Genre: Bondage, D/s themes, Everything is consensual, Kinky, M/M, Spanking, bdsmshit, chairsex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornrocks/pseuds/lornrocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of half based on an idea I had and also this prompt where someone wanted Sylar to be all sweet normally and then really dominate and freaky in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Tied Up

It was a relatively quiet afternoon. Sylar was sitting at his desk, tinkering with some mechanical thing or other, trying to ignore the fact that his roommate was walking around the house in various stages of undress.

He sighs in frustration at his inability to concentrate and puts the screwdriver in his hand down.

"What's wrong?" Peter asks, poking his head out of the bedroom to look at the other man.

Sylar settles back in his chair and casts a put on annoyed face.

"Here I am," he begins, "Trying to mind my own business, and Marky Mark over here is parading around in his underwear." He gestures exasperatedly in Peter's direction.

The man in question just chuckles and looks up from the laundry he was sorting through.

"Don't act like you don't like it," he replies, a small smirk on his lips.

Sylar tries to come up with a comeback, but finds he can't, namely because Peter is now sauntering over to him.

"I do," he resigns himself, "I love it."

Peter nods and abruptly straddles the sitting man's lap.

Sylar groans as he feels Peter rub himself against his thigh, slowly and carefully. Leaning in, the empath whispers,

" _I've been a bad boy._ "

Swallowing, Sylar whispers back, "Is that so?"

Peter cants his hips and lets out a breathy moan.

"Mmm...yeah. Yeah."

Sylar threads his fingers through the thick, dark hair on the man in front of him and tugs. Peter's eyes flutter closed briefly and Sylar muses, half to himself and half to Peter, "Maybe you need punishing then."

The man in question just nods as much as he can with Sylar's grip in his hair, so Sylar takes it as a hint and pushes Peter off him. He twirls them around so they've switched positions, and then he shoves Peter into the chair he just vacated. Using his telekinesis, he grabs a tie that was sitting on top of the dresser and uses it to tie Peter's hand together and through the slats of the chair.

Satisfied that his "prisoner" couldn't escape, Sylar tugs Peter's trademark underwear off (tight little black boxer briefs, meant to inspire dirty thoughts in the other man, Sylar always suspected).

Sitting back on the couch, Sylar takes a look at his handiwork. His roommate sits on the chair, back arched, legs spread wide, head thrown back. His recently trimmed hair sticks to his forehead, and his skin seems to shine from the water still present after the medic's shower earlier.

The best part, though, is the way Peter's cock strains against his stomach, aching to be touched. Experimentally, Sylar lifts a finger and Peter inhales in surprise. Arching his back even more, Peter groans, "Please."

Pleased his little experiment is going well, Sylar shakes his head.

"Now now Peter, this is a punishment. Be a good boy and accept it."

Sylar speeds up the telekinetic strokes for good measure, making the medic whine and drop his head.

"Fuck, I just-ugh, fuck. I need to be touched," Peter mumbles, flicking his eyes up to meet the other's.

Sylar just smirks.

"Peter, you really should not have said anything. Now I have to make your punishment worse." Another flick of the finger, and Peter's eyes widen as his mouth struggles to come up with sounds.

Spreading his legs wider, Peter tries to both ward off and welcome the sudden intrusion inside his body. A slight brush across his prostate and the soft panting noises become curses, moaned loud enough that Sylar is sure the neighbors are going to start banging on the ceiling.

Not that he cares right now.

Using one hand, Sylar undoes the zipper on his jeans, then tugs his pants down just a little below his hip bones. Peter struggles to keep his eyes open so he can watch as the other man leisurely strokes his own cock with one hand as he continues his ministrations on Peter with the other.

"You are so beautiful," Sylar breathes, watching Peter's writhing form from under long eyelashes.

The words "Please, fuck me," drip from that sinful mouth and Sylar can only laugh.

"But I am, Peter, I am," he reassures, and adds more pressure to his movements, making Peter start to cant his hips obscenely.

"No, with your cock," Peter pants, "Fuck me with your cock, please, I-" He moans a few unintelligible syllables, before continuing. "God, I need it."

Sylar stands, waltzing over to stand in front of the seated man. Running his hand slowly up and down himself, he looks down at Peter.

"I will if you promise you'll be a good boy from now on. Do you promise?"

Peter tries to answer but a particularly well placed stroke causes his voice to sputter. Sylar reaches a hand up and slaps him across the face. Not hard, but enough to cause Peter to groan, "I promise," or at least something that sounded close enough like it.

Satisfied, Sylar undoes the ties around Peter's wrists, turns him around, and makes him stand with legs spread on either end of the chair, facing the back. Quickly, he reties Peter's hands to the slats of the chair. Holding his hand out in front of the other man's face, he commands, "Lick."

Peter does as he's told, licking a stripe up and down the taller man's hand. When he's finished, Sylar rubs his cock with it, trying to slick it as best as he can before he pushes Peter down until he's leaning over the back of the chair and his legs are spread wider. Unceremoniously, Sylar pushes in, causing Peter to buck his hips and try to fully sheath the other man.

Without even giving Peter time to adjust, Sylar starts to fuck in earnest, relishing the tight heat surrounding his cock and the sound of their skin slapping together through the apartment.

Lifting his hand, he smacks the other man's ass, making Peter shout out.

"Mmm, you feel so good, Peter," he soothes, then, for good measure, pulls his hand back and slaps that delicious ass again.

He snakes a hand around and start to casually rub his hand against Peter's cock, which makes the other man try to push his hips to get more friction.

"Are you going to come, Peter?" Sylar asks, accentuating his question with a hard thrust.

"I need- I need-" Peter mumbles, nonsense spilling from his mouth.

"Do you need this?" Sylar breathes into the other man's ear, taking his cock in hand and giving a few quick strokes.

With a strangled cry, Peter arches his back and comes hard, covering Sylar's hand and the chair below them.

Sylar continues to stroke Peter through the aftershocks, until he relaxes a little, and then Sylar grabs the other's hips and starts to thrust harder.

"Do you want me to come inside you?" he purrs, and Peter groans.

"Yes," he says, trying to twist his head to see the other man.

Sylar smiles, gives a few more thrusts, then stills as he comes, pressing Peter's body close so he can moan his orgasm into the other man's ear.

They stay like that for a few moments, until Sylar gains his breath back long enough to pull out and untie Peter.

Peter turns around, rubbing his wrists. Frowning, Sylar lifts the other's wrists up so he can kiss them.

"Was that good for you, too?" he asks, and Peter stands on tiptoe and kisses him.

"Only you can give me what I need, baby," he whispers against Sylar's mouth, letting himself be pulled onto the couch.

Warm arms wrap around his body and he relaxes into the touch. He suspected the reason Sylar was always so tender after sex was because the reformed part of him felt guilty for reverting back to his old ways, in a manner of speaking, but he wasn't complaining.

He dozes off with Sylar's body pressed protectively across his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Written a long time ago for LJ.


End file.
